


The Magic of Eggnog

by miraculous_lovesquare



Series: Tumblr Fics (aka I made that text post without thinking) [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Christmas Jumpers, Cuddling, Eggnog, First Kiss, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Mistletoe, Tumblr, drunk on eggnog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 06:51:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2803487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraculous_lovesquare/pseuds/miraculous_lovesquare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just some domestic christmas fluff. Sherlock gets drunk, and there's mistletoe in the kitchen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Magic of Eggnog

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dutchtulipqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=dutchtulipqueen).



The thing about getting drunk is that it effects everyone. Even the great Sherlock Holmes.

"Jaaaawwwn," A voice called from the floor. "Your jumper is truly horrendous." John glanced at his own jumper. He thought it would be appropriate to wear a nice Christmas jumper at their party, so he did. Now the party was over of course, except for Sherlock.

"What's wrong with it." John asked, looking down. Sherlock was sprawled on the floor, blocking John's path to the kitchen.

"Those reindeer," Sherlock slurred. "Aren't  _dancing_." John looked at his jumper again and groaned. Even drunk, Sherlock was fairly good at observing and deducing. And what little filter Sherlock did have was gone.

"I need another eggnog." John really wasn't drunk enough to deal with this. He got up and nudged Sherlock with his socked foot.

"Move you great lump." Surprisingly, Sherlock rolled over and out of John's way.

"Get me a drink too." Sherlock called as John stepped into the kitchen.

"You don't need another drink." John told him. He had drunk at  _least_ four cups that John saw.

"Yes, I do." Sherlock insisted. The man could be really stubborn sometimes.

"Well if you can get up off the floor and walk into the kitchen, then I guess you can." John said, opening the fridge. Sherlock sighed heavily and John heard him standing. As John poured his glass, Sherlock appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.

"I made it." He said, and started to turn back to the living room, wobbling a bit.

"Actually, now that you're here," John reasoned as he picked up his cup, "You can probably get your own drink. Here's the bottle." John walked towards his chair, but he didn't make it out of the kitchen.

"Sherlock, I told you-" He was silenced by Sherlock's finger pointing up at the ceiling. John looked up to see mistletoe hanging from the light.

"I don't remember putting that there." John tried to remember the day they put out the decorations. Well, the day Sherlock sat on the couch while John moved around him hanging various Christmas items.

"Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock replied. "Well, it's tradition to kiss, correct?"

"Yeah, but you've never been one for following rules." John shot back easily. Sherlock shrugged.

"At least, up until now." With every word, Sherlock inched his face closer. Their lips were a millimeter apart and John could feel Sherlock's breath on his mouth. John closed the gap and pressed a chaste kiss on Sherlock's lips. They were soft and warm, unlike the detective's usual deductions.

"I could use that drink now." Sherlock said after they parted. His breath said otherwise.

"I think you need to go to bed."

"Okay." Sherlock turned and walked towards his bedroom, stumbling a little every now and then. John blinked a few times. If Sherlock was this well behaved drunk, he needed to keep more beer around the house. Or eggnog. For now, John went to bed as well. He had no idea how the mad genius would fair in the morning.

***

John woke up to a groan from downstairs. He walked to the loo. Quickly, he brushed his teeth and his hair. Another moan sounded from Sherlock's bedroom and John smirked. He was going to have so much fun. Hangovers were a bitch for anyone, Sherlock was no exception there. He grabbed some paracetamol and a glass of water.

"Sherlock?" John called outside the detective's door. Nothing. He knocked and let himself in. Sherlock was curled in a ball, his face pressed into his pillow and his duvet up to his neck. All John could see was a mop of dark brown hair.

"Make it go away, John." Sherlock flopped dramatically onto one side, making room for John to sit on the bed with him.

"Here, take this." John handed Sherlock the pills. He downed the medicine and half the water. John sat back against the headboard. Sherlock took this opportunity to put his head in John's lap. John didn't know what to do. Sherlock grunted and moved one of John's hands into his curls. John took the hint and started rubbing circles on his scalp. Sherlock sighed and relaxed further into John's lap. He was falling asleep when John spoke softly.

"Happy Christmas, Sherlock."

"Happy Christmas, John."


End file.
